


A New Understanding

by Gilberrts



Category: Jennifer's Body (2009)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Gore, as self indulgent as every other thing i write, extreme measures taken to avoid the word nipple, that's a strange combo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-16 02:06:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11244102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gilberrts/pseuds/Gilberrts
Summary: Needy had loved Chip. She's not sure if it was romantic or platonic, but she loved him. But she loved Jennifer just as much. Probably more. She misses her more than anyone she's ever known. And now, she understands. She understands the challenge and thrill of holding someone completely at your mercy in their final moments. Their fear, their hopelessness. It's intoxicating. No wonder Jennifer got addicted.





	A New Understanding

The members of Low Shoulder don't die with dignity. They scream and they beg and they piss their pants and in general, they embarrass themselves. It's almost pitiful.

But Needy doesn't feel pity for them, just a cold, focused rage as she tears them apart, and intense satisfaction when intestines and viscera spill across the pristine white carpet.

Nikolai doesn't remember her. He doesn't even remember Jennifer. Losing three fingers on his right hand jogs his memory.

“You have to understand. It's hard for indie artists out there. We needed her to be successful.” He's pleading, almost earnestly, as if his reasoning makes perfect sense. It makes Needy sick, thinking of Jennifer's life wasted on something as insignificant as limited popularity among midwestern teens acting out against parental authority.

“And look at what success got you. Your entire band dead, three fingers gone, and an early death at the hands of a psychotic Jan Brady lookalike.”

She sinks the knife into his abdomen, making sure he can feel every centimeter tearing him apart. His mouth opens and closes soundlessly as he gapes like a goldfish. A single trail of blood comes from the corner of his mouth, and it almost makes Needy laugh. This entire room looks like something you'd see in a subpar horror movie, complete with blood, revenge, and a murderous psych ward escapee.

She steals clean clothes from their suitcases and the cash from their wallets, then makes her way up the stairs. The roof access door is locked, but an uncoordinated but a powerful kick from Needy changes that.

The cool air feels good on her warm skin. She always seems to be warm nowadays. It reminds her of the way Jennifer had felt, with the demon inside her. Her mouth had been scorching hot, her skin had been so warm and soft, and oh God, Needy killed her. It keeps hitting her over and over like a freight train, as soon as she manages to forget it. She'd stabbed her through the heart with a box cutter and Jennifer’s mother had cried over her body and now she's never coming back.

It had seemed like the only way to stop the murders. But Needy missed her. Oh God, did she miss her.

Needy knows she's a hypocrite. Jennifer killed four people, and Needy murdered her for it. As of tonight, Needy’s killed six people. She's never hated herself more.

She doesn't regret killing the band, but she'll never forgive herself for murdering Jennifer Check.

What will Needy do now?

She's lost everyone, and she can never go home. It must be time for her to get a job.

—

She starts small, killing cheating husbands for a modest fee. Stuff like that. Then word gets around, and she starts doing hits for gangs. Sometimes she gets high-profile clients, wanting to get rid of business rivals, or receive their inheritance early. Unless the client specifies, Needy always kills her way. Her way is messy. It means blood on the walls, bite marks, and missing organs. It means the only weapons she uses are her hands and teeth. Every job is a meal.

She's traveled all over the globe, but she sticks to North America, mostly. She's picked up several languages, but English is preferable. Cities are typically where the most clients are, but if it sounds like the target deserves a slow death, Needy would travel out to the middle of nowhere.

Chicago’s an alright city in the daylight, but Needy loves it at night. The edges of buildings melt into the sky, distinguished only by their lights. Some of the grime and trash can be forgotten in the dark. Signs and billboards glow a million different colors, casting shadows and painting the scene shades of neon. It's all entirely alien to a girl from Devil’s Kettle, but Needy likes to think she's adapted well to city life.

A line stretches around the block to get into a concert for some indie band, or at least no band Needy's ever heard of. Needy vaguely wonders what occult ritual they performed to draw that kind of crowd.

She enjoys the wind blowing through her hair, as she stares up at the sky. There's no stars here, just a gray and black expanse above her, and the full moon half hidden among the clouds. She can sense the club a block away, the thumping bass vibrating through the concrete sidewalk. The bouncer comments on the questionable wisdom of wearing a sleeveless dress and no coat in late November, but lets her in without any hesitation. Needy still finds it strange, being considered beautiful. The special treatment, the compliments, the adoration? Those had always belonged exclusively to Jennifer.

Sometimes, though, Jennifer would play her games. Like slap Needy’s ass and call it sexy, or grab her boobs and lick the shell of her ear. Needy knew it was a joke, but it almost felt good. It almost felt like being desired.

Nowadays, though, her hair falls in shining golden waves, her eyes large and alluring, and lips stained a dark red. This change in appearance was less a side effect of puberty, and more a direct result of eating a wealthy adulterer in Lake County early yesterday morning. Her skintight black dress hugs Needy's hips, and her cleavage threatens to spill out over the neckline. It isn't Needy's preferred style of clothing, but she has long since figured out that the easiest way to get into a target’s house was to get into their pants. She scans the club, and spots him, a vaguely greasy blond man leaning up against the bar. Needy smiles, sharp and predatory. This is her favorite kind of hit, the kind paid for by someone looking for revenge. The client was a young woman, her eyes tired and full of fury. She'd tried to press charges against him, but of course they hadn't stuck. She hadn't gone into details, and Needy hadn't asked. Needy was more than happy to step in and settle the score, for a reduced fee.

The man seems all too happy to buy her a drink, eyes firmly fixed on her body. Needy easily deflects personal questions, and he seems content to talk about himself. She tells him her name is Jennifer. There's not any particular reason. It just feels right. She offers to come back to his place, and he enthusiastically agrees, when she sees a head of shiny dark hair and a predatory smirk aimed in her direction.

Needy tells herself it's not Jennifer, it can't be. It wouldn't be the first time she's seen things that aren't there. That's been happening since before Jennifer got possessed, has probably always been happening. At any rate, it unnerves her. She quickly excuses herself for just a second.

Jennifer’s standing in the empty bathroom. Or it looks like she is.

“Where's it at, Monistat?”

“Vagisil,” Needy says to the hallucination, and walks past her to the sink. Not-Jennifer looks shocked by this.

“Not gonna lie, I thought you would try and stab me again. Almost a little disappointing.”

“Why would I stab you? You're not real.” God, Needy hopes there's no one else in this bathroom to hear her talking to herself.

Not-Jennifer is a little bit taken aback by this, but recovers quickly. Even in Needy's hallucinations, she can't be anything but perfect and in control.

“Remind me again why you decided to break out of the nuthouse?”

“Yeah, well at least I'm not stabbing hallucinations in club bathrooms.”

Not-Jennifer sighs. “Have you forgotten the trick I showed you, Needs? For when you see things?”

Needy nods slowly. Jennifer had always known that Needy's brain lied to her sometimes. Needy had sworn her to secrecy, and Jennifer had never broken a promise to Needy. When she was unsure if something was real, and asked Jennifer for help, she always said the same thing.

“Take a picture, Needy. The camera doesn't lie.”

Needy pulls out her phone with shaking hands and takes the picture. The screen shows Jennifer in a black and white mini dress that leaves nothing to the imagination, and a smug grin on her face. Needy's phone falls to the counter, and Jennifer's expression changes to surprise when Needy rushes forward and wraps her arms around her waist. When Needy looks up, tears run down her face.

“You really know how to pick the worst time for everything, you motherfucker. I'm working right now.”

“With that butterface by the bar? When did you start turning tricks?”

“I'm not being paid to fuck him, I'm being paid to cannibalize him.”

“Correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't you super against the whole ‘eating people alive’ thing? It's kinda why you stabbed me.”

Needy pulls the strap of her dress off her shoulder, revealing the scar left by Jennifer's teeth.

“Turns out a desire for human flesh is contagious.”

“Oh, that's fuckin’ hilarious,” Jennifer laughs. Not the fake laugh she gives when she pretends a guy’s joke is funny, but a genuine one. Needy can tell.

“Just let me give you my number, I have to get back to work.” Needy stuffs her phone into her purse and reluctantly steps out of Jennifer's space, wiping away tears.

“Oh, you are not getting away that easily. Not tonight.”

“Jen, this is my one chance to kill him, and I need to make him suffer. He deserves it. You don't know what he's done."

Jennifer smiled, cruelty and excitement showing simultaneously on her face.

“I think I have an idea to get us both what we want.”

—

The target readily agreed to having two beautiful women come back to his house. Needy had introduced Jennifer as an old friend she'd run into, as Jennifer wrapped her hair around her finger and licked her lips. That was all it took.

In the taxi, Jennifer slides her hand up and down Needy's thigh, laughing at the target’s shitty jokes. Needy clamps her legs together and lies about how interesting the target’s job is.

Needy's used to getting close to targets under the pretense of a one night stand, but she hasn't had sex in years. Mostly, she hadn't cared. But Jennifer is the exception. She's always been the exception. Needy forces herself to push her body closer to the target’s, internally grimacing at the feel of his breath washing over her skin and his sweaty hand snaking around her waist. One time, Jennifer had dared her to spray Lysol in her mouth when they were kids, and Needy had done it just because Jennifer didn't think she would. The target smells like the way that air freshener tasted, suffocating and unnatural. Needless to say, that quickly kills her arousal.

The target's apartment is large and modern looking, with high ceilings, wood floors, and tacky abstract art. The most important features, in Needy's opinion, are the pristine white rug and furniture. Needy imagines how good it would look to see those stained red with this fucker’s blood.

She's not normally this excited to kill someone. Normally, all it means is money and a meal, but the target is different this time. He's going to deserve the pain. And Needy's going to enjoy hurting him.

Needy steps inside the apartment and cracks her neck. It's time to do what she does best. She slips off her uncomfortable heels and places them by the door. This is the only nice dress Needy owns, so she might as well keep it clean and take it off. Needy could unzip her dress by herself, but she asks Jennifer to, just because she's here. It's so hard to focus on the target, because Needy's still reeling from the fact that Jennifer's even alive, and she wants to ask a million questions. Still, Needy's got a job to do, and she takes it very seriously.

Jennifer's right hand skates up and down Needy's side as her left pulls down the zipper, making her shiver with excitement. She doesn't know if this is the same as Jennifer's always been, or if this is different. The look in Jennifer's eyes when Needy slips out of her dress definitely feels different.

“So, where's the bedroom?”

—

The target tangles his sweaty hands into Needy's hair as she takes his dick into her mouth. Needy presses his hips down in the mattress, holding him still. She looks up at him, and she can feel him twitch at the eye contact. Disgusted, she bites down hard and pulls. The tearing of his flesh is not heard so much as felt as it gives way, and he screams hysterically. Needy leans back and spits it out to the left of the bed, delighting in the warmth of blood on her tongue.

“I swear to God, it's the size of a cocktail wiener.” Jennifer nudges it lightly with the toe of her shoe. The sight is a mixture of disgusting and hilarious, in a morbid sort of way.

“Think you could stand to share him?”

—

The man’s hands try to scratch Needy's arms as she pulls out his liver, so Jennifer bites his fingers off, one by one. The man’s torso is ripped open from his collarbones to his groin, flaps of skin splayed open, revealing his organs. It reminds Needy of when she dissected a frog in AP Biology. Because Needy's feeling impulsive today, she leans forward and presses her mouth to his cheek, in a mockery of a kiss. She peels the skin off his cheekbones with her teeth, leaving a bloody tear that extends past his jaw and onto his neck.

Jennifer watches her with bright eyes, before leaning forward and captures her blood soaked lips in a kiss. Needy lets Jennifer kiss her and pull her close with hands around her waist, just because it feels nice, before pulling away.

“We're not doing this again, Jennifer.” Out of the corner of her eye, Needy can see the victim’s stopped moving.

“Why not? I know you like it.”

Needy sighs and extricates herself from Jennifer's grip. “Because this is just playing boyfriend and girlfriend for you. It doesn't mean anything to you, and I don't want that.”

Jennifer's eyes widen and she tightens her arms around Needy's waist.

“That's really what you think? God, Needs, I thought you were smarter than that.” Jennifer sits back against the headboard and crosses her legs. “Guess everybody makes mistakes.”

“What's that even supposed to mean?”

“I mean, haven't you ever wondered why I always talked shit about boys you liked and tried to get you to break up with Chip?

“Because you're a bitch?”

“I mean, you're right about me being a bitch, but that's not the reason why.”

“Then why?”

Jennifer sighed and looked away. “Look, Needs, I've been thinking about why I did all that shit. Back then, I thought I was just being a normal, bitchy girl.”

Jennifer stared at a spot of blood on the bedspread with purpose, like if she just concentrated hard enough, it would burst into flames.

“I was dumber than horseshit.” Jennifer spits out the words like they were burning a hole in her tongue.

“What,” says Needy, intelligently.

Jennifer’s eyes lock onto Needy's.

“A normal girl doesn't make up games so she has an excuse to kiss her best friend. She doesn't get jealous of all the boys her best friend talks to. She doesn't insist on wearing matching necklaces with her best friend as a senior in high school. A normal girl doesn't fall in love with another girl.”

Needy feels like the floor’s dropped out from underneath her. All the same, there is a force stronger than gravity that draws her to Jennifer. The kiss is soft and insistent, and Jennifer still kisses with way too much tongue. Their bodies slot together, slick and radiating heat, but Needy's surprisingly comfortable.

Because this is Jennifer, things escalate quickly. Her hands slip down and squeeze her ass, making her gasp in surprise. Needy knows she's being so easy, wet and wanting from a few bloodstained kisses, despite the cooling corpse next to her.

Jennifer kisses down her neck, leaving a trail of dark lipstick residue. She presses her lips to the scar on her shoulder, gentle as anything. She continues to bite and suck at her neck, not hard enough to draw blood, but with the intention to create lurid purple bruises. As the kisses trail lower, Needy realizes her bra has disappeared without her noticing

“That's a neat trick,” she manages to get out. Jennifer smirks at her state of disarray, and takes great pleasure in being the cause of it.

“You think? It's just the reverse of doing it to yourself.”

Needy has no time to respond before searing wet heat presses to her breasts. Alternating between hard suction and the scrape of teeth quickly has a stream of broken moans tumbling from her lips.

Jennifer's hands are never still, always squeezing and groping at her ass, chest, thighs, whatever's in reach. Needy feels like she's being consumed in the best possible way, helpless to Jennifer's passion.

Still, she'd like to give as good as she gets. She reaches between them and grinds the heel of her hand against the soaked fabric of Jennifer's underwear, delighting in the harsh gasp let out against her skin.

For a minute they continue their ministrations, trembling against each other, until Jennifer leans up towards Needy's ear.

“Hey Needs,” she drawls. “What do I gotta do to get you to sit on my face?”

Needy's not sure what kind of expression she's making, but it must be fucking hilarious, judging by the way Jennifer's smirking.

“Seriously, name your price.” Jennifer's eyes are wide and hungry, she's really not joking about this.

“Fine. You have to stay afterwards, at least for a little while. I've got a fuckton of questions.”

Jennifer's smile becomes positively predatory.

“Oh, sweetheart, you're never getting rid of me now."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Finally finished this draft from last year. This won't get much attention but I feel really happy that I'm starting off summer break with completing multiple projects. Sorry I didn't write detailed face-sitting, but I'm still having trouble writing sex scenes that aren't so awkward they make me want to laugh or cry. Something to work on this summer.


End file.
